


The Dance We Know So Well

by angelwriter



Category: British Actor RPF, Good Omens (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Doctor Who References, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Filming, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay, Holding Hands, Interviews, M/M, Mutual Pining, Real Life, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/pseuds/angelwriter
Summary: This is an RPF about the pairing between Michael Sheen and David Tennant. In this fic they knew each other when they were younger and they fell in love. This is how they fell in love.





	The Dance We Know So Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hurtslikeyourmouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurtslikeyourmouth/gifts).

> I know that this is an AU fiction piece and none of what is in this book must be taken as real information. This is purely for my own pleasure and I thought about writing this because I know that the relationship between Michael and David is really strong and they have such great chemistry. 
> 
> In no way am I insinuating that they are in a relationship and that David and Georgia are not married in real life. 
> 
> It is just for fun. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy what I have done. 
> 
> [This is in David's POV]

I had known him a long time. Too long in fact. Over a decade....over two decades but the public did not need to know that. Michael and I said we had known each other when we were doing a show together. We were put together on this set and we were always on the opposite sides of it. Never the same frame, never the same set. It was surprising how we even ended up meeting. 

Like a snake slithering into the long grass towards its prey, I had found him. I wanted him from the moment I met him. Of course I did not entirely know what it meant. I had never loved before, I was fairly certain I was not capable of it at that point. I was young, the world was new to me. I was just starting my career. Michael and I had met one day outside by a wall and we exchanged numbers. We did not speak much in the beginning, we had our own things to do, other films, different countries to explore. We always wound up on the same place though. I had thought it was coincidence at the start.

It was only when he asked me to lunch that first time that I truly knew it must have been fate. (Either that or he was stalking me.) I remembered it so vividly even after so long. We sat at a delightful restaurant that he had suggested. We drank loads of wine and nibbled on delicious treats and snacks. I had always found his company relaxing, comforting almost. He was bright like a ball of sun spreading joy and radiating sparks wherever he went. He was beaming with smiles that day. (And almost every day he was around me in fact.) I found myself rather pleased that we had some sort of Arrangement and friendship blossoming between us over the years we had encountered each other. 

"David, I must say I missed you." 

My eyes widened at that. "You did? Well, I guess then I have to admit I missed you, too." 

"You have always inspired me, you know?" 

I took a long sip of my wine. "I can't imagine how. You are a much better person then me. Good at your job. Far better. I have a tendency to muck up every now and then." 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! You are fantastic. Look at all the parts you got. You are charming, well dressed and quite attractive if I may say." 

He must have been incredibly drunk to be saying these things, I had thought. His curls swayed each time he took a gulp from his glass, his shoulders wiggling in happiness. His electric-blue eyes focused on me and I found it extremely hard to look away. That was the thing when Michael looked at you. You felt like you were the only thing in existence. He saw you. He really saw you and you wanted to bask in his admiration, and you wanted to go on your knees and shout praise because he noticed you, because you were the object of his attention for however long you were. 

"Attractive?" My cheeks flushed at that. I played it off as the wine colouring my face, but I knew it was because he had put me on the spot. He had embarrassed me. Michael called me attractive and I could not quite figure out why I was so proud that he had said that. 

Maybe it was because I thought of him as beautiful - more beautiful, incredible, talented, sparky, special - I did not want to rise above him. I did not want to squander his beauty with my feebleness. I did not want to disappoint him. The thought or idea that wracked around my brain, knocking against my subconscious through the entire lunch was that he thought I looked good. He found me attractive and I already felt the connection pulsating between us. I wondered if he did. Or if he was just being polite. 

"You are! Gosh, if I were your girlfriend, I would be all over you." He giggled loudly and I bit into the flesh of my cheek. 

"I don't have a girlfriend actually." 

"You don't? I must say I am both surprised and rather relieved." 

"You what?" I sputtered. 

"Relieved. I...sorry this is terribly forward of me. I will shut up now. Don't want to over speak. I shouldn't." 

He downed the last bit of the bottle we ordered and decided that since we were already close by his place and I was unable to drive sober, that I could just stay over by his place until morning. I had thought it was a good idea at the time and although it was an entirely nerve-wracking time wondering why the hell I had stayed with him for so long, blaming it on that I had to work and that it would be easier if I just stayed over by his place. But that wasn't the story now. 

The story was that it was the best decision I made. After a month I had weasled my way into Michael's life, I had found myself going to concerts and theatre productions with him. We made food together, helped each other run lines, and forumate emails to our respective head offices. We were sort of a team, a buddy companionship. I was rather happy that I had him as my dear friend. Except of course that we weren't friends. At least not just friends. 

I could recall with perfect clarity the night when all of it ended. The pretending. The secrets swept under the rug piling up in front of us. It all went down like a lead balloon. I had no idea that we had both been pining, been yearning for more. We were on the sofa, a few bottles of wine between us, stuffing microwave popcorn in our mouths while watching a TV show Michael adored. The lights were off and we were sharing a blanket. We were close enough that I could feel his body heat radiating through his skin, hear each breath he took. I could smell him. He smelt of Old Spice, and faintly of the scotch we just drank mixed with the ginger biscuits we ate before. I had no idea why he smelt appealing. 

Our legs were mere inches apart. I was so tempted to move it to "accidentally" brush it against his. It was an innocent movement, I could pass it off as that. But then I wanted our shoulders to touch, our arms, and I wanted to lean in to whisper in his ear and see the hairs raise on the nape of his neck and watch the goose flesh dot the skin of his throat. I wanted him to shiver as my voice lowly suggested things that I had been dreaming about the entire month we lived under the same roof. 

I swallowed down the words and the images that flashed in my mind. He wouldn't. We were friends. Too far. It was too far. Too much. Too much. Fuck, I wanted him. I never wanted anyone like this. I turned my attention from the screen to his face. The light from the TV made his natural pale skin glimmer, his hair in unruly curls clumped together at the top that I longed to twist in my fingers. The angles of his collarbone that stuck out beneath his shirt. The long arch of his neck, the clean shaven softness of his cheeks and the perfect shape of his lips that literally begged to be bitten and bruised. 

I wanted. 

As if he could feel my penetrative gaze, he met my eyes. Those now sliver-blue eyes meeting mine with the same want and desires. No. I was dreaming again. His eyes lidded as he stared down shamelessly at my parted lips that was open and releasing my heavy pants. My heart thundered in my chest and I felt like it was going to run away from me. I tried to breathe as he ever so slowly leaned in. His eyes shut and he moved his head to kiss me. One feather-light brush of his lips was enough to end me. It shattered everything that I had known. I had kissed before. Many times. Sometimes for work and sometimes for my own pleasure. 

But this. This. What was this? 

My hands snaked gently up to cup his face. My fingers held his jaw, my hands tenderly caressed his cheeks. The slide of our lips was so natural it was as if we had done this thousands of times before. My body quaked with heat and emotions. Fire lit in the pit of my stomach and I had not even begun to kiss him properly. We kissed softly, savouring the feel of our lips tightly pressed together, exploring each other's faces. His hands went to the back of my neck and fingered the ends of my hair. I could not resist then to grab a handful of his curls. The softness of it beneath my fingers - fuck it was undoing.

I gripped harder at his hair and kissed him more eagerly now. He let out a whimper as his body pushed himself closer to me. That was all encouragement I needed. I slipped my tongue over his lips and desperately devoured him into my mouth. I traced every corner of him, I sucked him in, bit into his flesh. My mouth kissed his neck, his hands trailed up and down my chest. All of it was fire and passion that I had never experienced before. I knew that perhaps we were tipsy and maybe this was just because he found me attractive not that he had feelings for me.

It made me sick inside to even think about never doing this again, watching someone else do this, obsessing over someone making him moan like I was now. I wanted to be the only one to see him like this. That wild, delirious look in his eyes when he wanted to pin you down on the couch and fuck you for weeks. That soft, tender way his hands cherished your body. The gasps and little heady breaths that fan on your sweaty skin. The shiver as I sank my teeth into his shoulder. I wanted to be his. And as selfish as it was, I wanted him to be mine. 

"David," he groaned as I marked him with purple bruises down his throat and over his shoulders and on the sides of his ribs. I had ripped his shirt open. I could not control this fever within me to map his body with kisses and bites. 

"Michael, tell me what you want?" 

"You." 

Fucking hell! He couldn't say that. He didn't mean it. I wanted to make sure that this was real, that this would last. 

"Is that true?" My voice wavered and I clenched my fists at the vulnerability it portrayed. 

"Yes. Always. I always wanted you. Ever since I met you. Didn't you know that? I followed you. I found you again and again. I couldn't leave you alone." 

I whined at the back of my throat and kissed him until my lips were aching and stinging. We fell asleep with my head on his chest, his hands stroking my hair when I woke up. He had woken up before me and said we had to have a serious conversation. Normally that would frighten me, but I knew either I had to accept his friendship or never part from him ever again. 

"David John McDonald, I wanted to kiss you for so long. I am sorry we were drunk when we did it, but I don't regret it. Not for  
one second. You cannot live your life with regrets. I don't know how you feel about me, but I want you to know that I do have feelings for you."

"Me too," I croaked out. "Be with me. Michael, I want you to be with me. I am leaving soon to go work away. I want us to stay together, even if our work carries us apart or we hardly see each other I want you to know that I only see us. I really feel strongly about this, about you." 

"You have to leave soon. Me too. I will find you. We will meet again. I am sure of it. I will miss you, David. I believe that my feelings will not change either." 

He stroked my face with the back of his knuckles and we continued on as we usually did until I had to board a plane. It was one of the best times I could remember. Just being with him freely, us loving each other. I worked on a new series for a few years and it was at that time that I was approached by my bosses and superiors. Armageddon was afoot. It was nearing the end, I knew I had to make it out alive. I could not disobey them. All I could think about though was that I had to save Michael from this. 

"You have a wife?" Michael shouted at me when I told him the news. 

"Nooo. Not a real wife. Not really." I scratched the back of my neck in distress, my voice several octaves higher. 

"So everyone will think you are married to her? I...I do not know what to say." 

I took his hands in mine. "Tell me nothing changes between us. This does not change how I feel about us. I swear that one day when we are older and all this is over, we will live together. We will have our own family. We will live the rest of our lives in a nice home, in a cottage somewhere away from everywhere else. I want it if you do. All I ask is that your feelings do not change. If you want this as much as I do, if you want to be with me, then have faith we will get there." 

"David, I do not care how long I have to wait. They can give me a hundred girlfriends and say you have like fifty children by the time you are fifty yourself. None of it matters to me. I knew already when we found each other that each time we met it was still the same. There is something between us and I know - I know I will not easily find in anyone else. They can keep us apart, but they cannot take away how we feel about each other." 

I pressed my lips against his in confirmation and a desperate affirmation of me trusting in his words. I admit now that it was hard. The hardest time in fact. We worked miles away from each other. I sat in interviews answering questions about my wife and the kids I had with this deep knife lodged into my chest. Every time it was brought up my lips would press into a thin line and I would nod, never really knowing how to act, not knowing what to say and maybe that was why eventually I had a script I had to say. In one particular interview they had mentioned that I had yet another baby on the way and I just said yes and tried to look as enthusiastic as my tired mind and body would allow.

In that same interview they mentioned Wales. And that one word caused the breath in my lungs to halt. My mind conjured up a clear image of Michael in Wales. I pressed my lips together and locked my jaw, trying to stop my body from aching and showing it on my face. They asked if I was going to be in Wales any time soon because of the reboot of the show I had previously done in Wales. I said no I was not going to Wales and I had hoped that my voice did not shake, reflecting the sadness I felt that I might not see Michael again for some time. 

We had spent the duration of my series (much to our happiness) together. We had thought that Michael would stay in London, but he decided to go home and there I just happened to get a part in my favourite TV series that was being filmed in Wales. We spent six amazing months together. Sunrises with tea and morning fruit and crumpets. When I had an evening off we would snuggle together in bed. 

When I came home in the wee hours of the morning, Michael I found had stayed up doing reruns of his favourite shows. He would greet me with a smile and soothe my aching shoulders with a welcome massage and let me tell him about my long day on set in the freezing cold. He would run me a warm bath with bubbles and soak my feet with foot rub.

God, I missed the pampering when I came home to Georgia's house. (No peace and quiet with all the kids around.) I remember him climbing in the tub with me with a bottle of wine that we eagerly drained down. We would talk for hours until we were prunes and our skin wrinkled. Then he would wrap up in a large towel and take me to bed. My pajama pants and white shirt would be warm from the dryer and I slipped it on, the tiredness now having an affect on me. I would put my head on the pillow and drift easily to sleep. 

I missed it when I was away. I had Georgia of course and her lovely kids. Ty sometimes helped with raising them and also Georgia's cooking was really great. I made desserts because I admit I was rather good at it. (Michael and I loved watching The Great British Bake Off. Michael and I attempted at least most of the recipes.) I had a great time with them. It was a joy to be with the little ones and spend time with Georgia. But of course I missed my real family....I missed Michael. 

***

My phone rang. It was the beginning of the year 2017. I was in the US at the time. I picked up the phone and smiled when I saw Michael's name on the caller ID. I heard his excitable voice on the other line loudly screaming that I did not understand what he was saying. I told him to speak slower and calmer. 

"NEIL GAIMAN ASKED IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PART OF THE PRODUCTION OF MY FAVOURITE BOOK GOOD OMENS! DO YOU REMEMBER GOOD OMENS? I USED TO READ IT ALMOST EVERY DAY WHEN I WAS IN COLLEGE? YOU KNOW AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY, THE ANGEL AND DEMON THAT STOPS ARMAGEDDON??" 

"Yes, I remember. Does Neil want me to be a part of it?" 

"YES! He immediately thought of you, well I may have suggested. I am playing the angel and I would really love for you to be my counterpart. The demon to my angel. Neil said he is sending you the script from episode 1. It is really wonderful. Would you like to...maybe do it with me?"

"Well of course! How can I resist? I will definitely read the script and run it by my agency. Where is it being filmed?" 

"You'd have to find your way to London. We start with the read through next month. Let me know what you decide. I really hope you do it because there is no one else I would rather do this with. The part is written as one technically. They balance each other out. You cannot have Aziraphale without Crowley."

"Thanks so much for thinking of me, Michael. I really missed you and it would be such an honour and a privilege to work with you. I hope I am right for the part..." 

"Text me or call when you have read it. I want to know your thoughts. Tell Neil immediately." 

The conversation continued. Michael and I spoke endlessly about Good Omens and Neil and his relationship. He was so excited and it was contagious. I read the script and instantly enjoyed it. It was a marvellous piece of work. It was a struggle though to get to the UK and I was incredibly nervous to go in and do the script read through. I had no idea how it was going to go. My hair was dyed red and everyone kept asking what it was for. I arrived at the studio and Michael greeted me with a quick hug by the door. He eased me only a fraction because I realised how important it was and how everything depended on mine and Michael's performance throughout this show as Neil Gaiman addressed all of us. 

We began with the first scene that Aziraphale and Crowley had in the Garden of Eden. Neil read the first part with God's voice explaining the beginning, but my line was the first line of the show between us and I felt my hands grow sweaty. Michael gave an encouraging smile as I opened my mouth. 

"Well that went down like a lead balloon." 

It sounded strained in my view. My British accent that I had put on since I was naturally Scottish had a certain old English feel to it and I hoped people liked it. It felt strange being with the new cast members all watching you and all around you, but Michael's cheery voice with a beautiful angelic chime made me relax a bit. 

"Sorry? What was that?" 

"I said that went down like a lead balloon..." 

Michael and I sat next to each other having a conversation. Our eyes were on the script but I could already feel the kinds of characters Aziraphale and Crowley were. It began spilling off the page as the emotions rose inside of me. I started feeling who Crowley was and how he admired and thought of Aziraphale. Michael was doing so well as the angel and he looked rather cute with his blonde hair and soft smile. He was the perfect angel. Aziraphale and Crowley had a joke shared between the two of them and as we got further into it, it just came to me naturally. I turned towards Michael, my legs twisting in the chair and I held my hands. 

"Didn't you have a flaming sword?" 

"I...uh..." 

Michael looked around, getting into the character. I looked at him in the way Crowley would Aziraphale, his eyebrows raised. 

"It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?" 

Michael looked down and spoke softly. "I gave it away." 

My voice rose. "You what?!?" 

Michael almost forgot himself as his head whipped up to meet my eyes with a smile on his face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neil intriguingly watching, his finger to the corner of his lips, his eyes alight like he had found something remarkable. I tried to stay in character. 

"I gave it away!" Michael whined in his usual whining voice that I know he does, but it sounded even more amazing in Aziraphale's accent. 

Throughout the entire script, I felt the dynamics between Crowley and Aziraphale blooming as we discovered it. I was getting so into it, I was banging my hand on the table. Throwing my hands up. Kicking my legs. Groaning and throwing my head back in annoyance. The drunk scene was particularly funny and I flushed as the other members laughed when we performed that part. Crowley had to be drunk so I decided to get up out my seat and sit on the table. The script was waving in my hand as I read from it the entire speech about dolphins and big brains. Michael tried hard not to stare up at me in awe. We became lost in the script, in Aziraphale and Crowley. It almost felt no one else was there besides me and Michael. 

When we began filming it was even better. Being with Michael was at best the most entertaining co star I ever had. We fed off each other and the chemistry was rocketing like sparks around us. Everyone could feel it, I was convinced of it. More often than I would have thought, Neil would tell us off set that we were absolutely fantastic together. That there was no one else that he would rather have for the two parts. It was true. It worked because the characters were the complete opposite but they were the same. Ying and yang as I always told everyone. I felt that maybe it was not only the chemistry between Aziraphale and Crowley, but also Michael and I. 

We were always similar and perhaps our own love for each other played off it too. It was a love story no doubt. Michael loved telling people how much Aziraphale loved Crowley. I picked up early on when we were in the hotel together that he was mostly saying it because he wanted to say how he loved me. We spent a lot of time running lines together in our rooms. (Or room should I say.) 

We created an entire life for Aziraphale and Crowley outside of the Good Omens script and book. Michael discovered quite deliberately the entire world of Good Omens fanfiction from since the book was released in 1991. He sat almost every night reading how Aziraphale was portrayed by the fans to give them something to look forward to. He read some out loud and I had interestingly found that they rather liked the idea of Aziraphale and Crowley in a romantic relationship. (They also had a lot of sex in some of these fics and Michael was all too happy about that let me tell you.) 

We spent most of our time either talking about Good Omens, reading Good Omens, or acting in Good Omens. When we flew to South Africa (my first time on that side of the world) I was amazed at the difference and the culture. It was a wonderful experience. Also extremely hot! Michael and I were not easily recognised and if you know Michael he loved to use that to his advantage. He spoke to locals and found all these tourists things for us to do when we had a little time off. My favourite night was walking hand in hand by the beach watching the sunset. It felt freer there. I held his hand and hardly anyone looked.

I kissed him on the cheek and he leaned into me, I held him tightly, nuzzling into his neck. I wore my sunglasses and he had on this hat that he had bought from one of the stalls in town. It felt like a breath of fresh air. I could be with Michael here in this moment alone and together. As I stared into the vastness of the ocean stretching out in front of me, I silently prayed and hoped that Michael and I could feel this one day in Wales and be able to express how we loved each other. 

We danced this dance between us for so long. Knowing we had to stop dancing when we were apart, but never in our hearts. We floated around in our heads. When we came together and our hands and bodies met, we began dancing like we never left.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little note: 
> 
> I do not usually read or write RPF fics. I just felt compelled to since Good Omens came out. And Michael and David are so great together. In some parallel universe maybe this could have happened. And I suspect that they would be very happy if they did. 
> 
> After all David did say he should have married Michael Sheen ;)


End file.
